


Astounding stories

by Royal_Ermine



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, POV Bucky Barnes, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, References to Lovecraft, Tattooist Brock Rumlow, Tattooist Bucky Barnes, World War II, librarian Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royal_Ermine/pseuds/Royal_Ermine
Summary: When Bucky plays a prank on Steve, Steve forgives him, but he doesn’t forget. And this Christmas Eve is payback time...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20
Collections: Stucky Secret Santa 2019





	Astounding stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pseudofoucault333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/gifts).



> My gift recipient requested Second World War, first Christmas together Stucky, Preserum Steve, Tattooists, Librarians and Harry Potter (amongst other things). I hope I've been able to squeeze them all in for you!

_Christmas Eve 1940_

Steve was definitely up to something.

And Bucky could always tell.

One of the many reasons Bucky adored his boyfriend, was in the uncanny way that Steve’s mind and body seemed so perfectly attuned to one other. In spite of his slight frame, Steve knew exactly how to use his build to its best advantage. And his limbs were every bit as lithe and graceful as his quicksilver wit. There was little doubt in Bucky’s mind that Steve’s athletic intelligence had earned him the position he’d secured earlier that year as a high school librarian, even though he still only twenty-one at the time.

And yet there were some mental acrobatics Bucky knew that his boyfriend couldn’t -indeed wouldn’t - even contemplate. When they’d first started dating, Bucky had suggested that Steve might want to consider ‘mis-remembering’ his birth date, so they could go along to the local speakeasy together. Steve had been appalled at the very idea of lying, partly on moral principle, but mostly because he claimed he didn’t have the acting skills needed to fool anyone into swallowing such a lie.

So, when Steve had said he’d be late home to their Brooklyn Tenement after work – and on Christmas Eve of all days - yet couldn’t quite look Bucky in the eye when he’d pressed Steve for a reason or even when he’d asked what time Steve had expected to be coming home, Bucky smelt a rat.

-*-

Of course, it was their very first Christmas together as a couple, so it was always possible that Steve had some kind of surprise planned, but Bucky thought that highly unlikely. Not only couldn’t either of them afford to exchange Christmas presents, given they were saving up for a home of their own to escape their draughty vermin-infested tenement, but Steve absolutely hated surprises.

Bucky had learned this the hard way in October. Over the summer months, while the school was closed, Steve had suspended the literary pretentions of his profession and had taken to reading back issues of a fantasy comic called _Astounding Stories_ that Bucky kept for his clients to look over in the tattoo parlor he worked in. Not only did it keep their minds off the sensation of the needle in their skins, but it often gave them interesting ideas for new designs beyond the traditional fayre of roses, hearts and daggers that he’d cut his teeth on when he first picked up the ink trade as a dockworker keen to make a few extra bucks on the side. Bucky thought of himself as something of a tattoo artist these days, and the inking he had applied to his own body comprised of tasteful monochrome scrollwork as far removed from a banner spelling out the word ‘mother’ as you could possibly imagine. Even Steve, who professed scant interest in the trade as a whole, could appreciate the artistic merit in Bucky’s ‘original art’ as he called it.

One fateful evening, Steve began reading a serialized tale in _Astounding Stories_ called ‘At the mountains of madness’ by an up-and-coming author named H.P. Lovecraft. As the days wore on, the initial interest that lit up his eyes changed in degrees to a kind of morbid fascination and finally to the same expression of appalled horror he’d given Bucky when he’d suggested the idea of exaggerating his age to get a drink. The day Steve began reading the last instalment of Lovecraft’s story, he and Bucky had elected to head off on a day trip to Coney Island, hoping that that the biting sea breezes of September would have driven away the hordes of holidaymakers and they’d be able to show a little discrete affection to each other in relative safety. Steve started reading the final chapter on the subway train, but by the time they’d reached the resort it was becoming clear that any Summer loving they were hoping to savor was likely to be soured by the sordid tale if Steve persisted in reading it. Bucky wasn’t sure how to tell Steve to stop but, in the end, Steve addressed the problem directly by hurling the unfinished comic over the edge of the pier to save himself experiencing the chilling conclusion.

It was devilishly mischievous of Bucky, but - as Halloween approached - the Coney Island episode gave him an idea of how to play a particularly ghoulish prank on Steve. He took another back-issue of _Astounding Stories_ from the tattoo parlor, ran it under the faucet for a few seconds, draped a little seaweed garnish over it, and then sneaked the soggy magazine into the top of Steve’s desk drawer just in time for October 31st. The shrill cry that Steve sent up when he thought Lovecraft’s story had returned from ‘Davy Jones’ locker’ to exact revenge on him for ditching it in the ocean was riotously funny, but only for a short while, and Bucky had a whole lot of apologizing to do for the rest of the evening. Steve forgave him of course, once he’d gotten over the shock, but he’d made it crystal clear to Bucky that he didn’t like surprises, and that he’d very much prefer it if neither of them ever gave or received any surprises like that in the future.

But if Steve wasn’t planning some kind of surprise by coming home late, then what exactly _was_ he up to? Steve’s moral principles hadn’t gotten him into any serious trouble. At least, not yet. But with the clamor in the media over the war in Europe growing ever louder, Bucky wouldn’t have been entirely surprised had his boyfriend chosen to jump the gun and pre-empt any US enlistment effort. But no. Steve would have told him if he was going to do something as crazy as that. Wouldn’t he?

Subterfuge simply wasn’t Steve’s style, but Bucky could manage a healthy slice of it, if he got anxious enough.

And by the end of the working day that cold Christmas Eve, Bucky was starting to get very, very anxious.

Trailing Steve from the school library at 5pm was simplicity itself for him. The diminutive figure of his boyfriend, wrapped up against the winter weather in an overcoat, cloth cap and scarf, was easy enough to pick out amongst the busy Christmas Eve shoppers. Or rather it was easy enough to begin with. By the time Steve had made his way downtown, the heaving crowds separated Bucky further and further from his quarry until he finally lost sight of him. As methodically as he could, Bucky retraced his steps to the point where he was sure he’d last seen Steve, and then set off in every possible direction his boyfriend could have gone, in the hope that he’d catch sight of him again.

Eventually Bucky did find Steve over an hour later, but in the most unexpected of places. Steve was happily skipping out of the door of a rival tattoo parlor, and giving a cheery wave of farewell to the proprietor as he went, a certain Brock Rumlow, known throughout the city as the worst tattooist in New York. Bucky’s eyes grew as wide as saucers at the sight. Steve had never expressed any desire to get a tattoo before. So why now? And why Rumlow of all people? Bucky was still brooding on this, when a familiar voice brought him back from his introspections.

“Oh, hi there, Buck. I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

Bucky looked down at Steve. He’d blown his cover

“I could say the same thing”, Bucky said, trying to smile, but not succeeding very well.

Steve tilted his head towards Rumlow’s dubious emporium of ink. “Checking out the competition, were we?”

“No, of course, not”, Bucky lied. “I was heading to…uhm…uhm…”

“The meatpacking district?” Steve suggested. “I think you’d said getting a joint to roast for our Christmas dinner would be cheaper if you waited until this evening, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s it.”

“So, you…want a little company while you’re doing that?” Steve asked flirtatiously, a bright smile dancing on his face.

“Yeah, that’d be swell”. Bucky looped his hand through Steve’s arm, drawing an unexpected wince of pain from his boyfriend.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

“It’s nothing”, said Steve, a little too quickly. “I’m just a bit sore around my bicep right now.”

Bucky’s imitation of a calm nod was positively pitiful.

All through the shopping trip, Bucky couldn’t think of anything beyond what Rumlow might have done to Steve. He couldn’t even recall how he ended up walking home with one arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder and the other cradling a ham shank in a paper bag, although he suspected Steve had chosen the joint for them. Glancing gloomily at the pork rind nestled in the crook of his arm, all he could think of was Steve’s fair flesh, and how it might well have been desecrated forever by the clumsy hand of the worst tattooist in New York.

-*-

As the evening wore on, Bucky was beginning to lose his mind with these foul imaginings. Steve seemed oblivious to Bucky’s distress, but then again, he was being merry enough for the both of them. He strung up the spare paper chains he’d made with the children during Christmas week, and hummed cheerily along to all the Christmas carols playing on the beat-up old wireless set they’d borrowed from Bucky’s parents for the holiday season. Steve even summed up a tall tale one of the older kids had made up about a wizard school in England, something Bucky would have normally loved hearing had he not felt so worried. However, just when Bucky thought he was about buckle beneath the mountains of his own madness, Steve finally relented, and asked him “So, I guess you really wanna know what I was up to this evening, huh?”

Bucky nodded and tried not to look as anxious as he felt.

“Well, you see. I thought I might give you a little Christmas surprise. A little bit like the one you gave me on Halloween, remember?”

As he said this, Steve unfastened the button on his shirt cuff and pulled up the sleeve.

Bucky stared slack-jawed at the violation plastered across Steve’s bicep. His sense of good taste was violently assaulted by the clownish outline of a heart with a dagger haphazardly pierced through it; all surmounted by a crooked banner spelling out the name BUCKY in mismatched characters.

“Uh…uh…” Bucky gulped, trying to come to terms with the nightmarish image set before him.

“And do you want to know what the REAL surprise is, Buck?”, Steve smiled sweetly.

Bucky blinked dumbly, still too astounded to speak.

Steve took a firm hold of his tattoo and, with a bold flourish, yanked the whole odious thing off his bicep. “The surprise is… it’s just a stick-on transparency!”, he laughed.

Bucky’s sigh of relief was so loud and protracted, it sounded like the tenement radiators had broken down yet again.

Steve wrapped his thin little arms around Bucky’s neck. “There, there, Buck”, he soothed. “It was just my little joke. Did you think I wouldn’t repay you for that whole _Astounding Stories_ prank you played in October?”

“I thought you’d forgiven me, Stevie.”

“And I have, sweetheart. I have. But I’d forgiven your prank, not forgotten it. They do say the strongest memory is weaker than the palest ink. So, I thought to myself, what better way to get you back than with an ugly inky tattoo!”

Bucky chuckled deeply. “Well, you sure fooled me there, Stevie. That was the ugliest tattoo I’ve ever seen. So, was Rumlow in on this?”

Steve nodded. “He was in on the joke, but he wasn’t in on the rest”, he admitted, before he dramatically sank to one knee and offered a small red velvet box up to Bucky. “Because this is your true Christmas surprise, my love.”

Bucky could make a pretty good guess at what that red velvet box might contain. It wouldn’t be damp and it wouldn’t covered in seaweed, but it would be even more surprising than Bucky’s original prank had been. Indeed, Bucky predicted Steve’s surprise would be worthy of inclusion in the next edition of _Astounding Stories_ , and the conclusion of this very special astounding story would doubtless sink into his memory more indelibly than the ugliest tattoo in all of New York.


End file.
